The Eye Of Luvelles Part 35

Brayson thought a moment. "You said George's when from here forward has been blocked. What about his when farther back? Is George's past beyond this when also blocked?"

Mogg closed her eyes again. After a moment, she opened them. "The when further into George's past is still an active trail that I can follow."

"Mogg, take me to the most significant event in George's past, prior to this when."

"Follow me, Wizard." Once again, the scenery changed, but now there was nothing familiar to the Head Master's eyes. They now stood in an old, rundown home of some sort. The furniture was nothing like Brayson had ever seen. There was a box sitting on top of a small table with beings moving inside it. He moved to touch it, expecting to be able to reach inside to retrieve them, but found that he could not.

"Mogg, what sort of magic is this? I cannot touch them." He tapped the gla.s.s. "What sort of barrier protects the..."

Brayson stopped talking and took a step back. He watched a man run toward the gla.s.s and dive in his direction while an explosion blew up a structure in the background. The flames appeared to travel beyond the box, but when Brayson moved to see if it had escaped, he could not understand how the box still felt cold to the touch. Brayson lowered back in front of the box and tried to reach through the gla.s.s again.

His voice was filled with frustration as he shouted, "Mogg, we need to save this man! He could perish! The building behind him burns and ... and..." He could not believe his eyes as the man stood as if nothing had happened and dusted off his clothes. "He lives! How is this possible?"

"Shut up, you fat cow!"

Brayson adjusted his gaze as a grumpy man with a pot belly entered the room. The man lifted a thin, paper cylinder that had been filled with tobacco to his mouth and sucked on it. The way its cherry lit up at its end reminded the Head Master of Marcus' pipe.

"I told you to have that little mistake take out the trash!" the man hollered. "And get me another beer while you're at it!"

Brayson watched as the dark-haired human plopped into a worn-out chair. He leaned back and pulled a lever to lift a cushion-covered surface that held up his feet. After setting a metallic container on a circular side table, the man shouted again. "Make that two beers, woman! And tell George to get his a.s.s in here. I need to handle some business!"

Brayson watched as an unhealthy looking woman ran into the room. She had a skinny face that was pale and filled with panic. She shouted, "You said you wouldn't touch him again! He's your son, Burt! You shouldn't make him do that. He's still recovering from the beating you gave him last night. I'll call the cops on ya! I'll do it!"

Brayson rolled his hands together in a nervous fashion as Burt stood from his chair. He grabbed the woman's frail frame and slammed her into the doorway that led into the next room. Burt hit her across the face with his fist. For a brief moment, her brown eyes rolled up inside her head.

Burt continued his abuse. "Look at you!" He looked her body up and down. "You're a waste of good air. If I wanted an opinion, I would've given one to you. Do you want me to call your probation officer? I could always tell her where your stash is. Do you really want to go back to jail?"

The woman fell to the floor and began to cry. Brayson desperately wanted to help. He quickly knelt next to her and reached out, but his hands pa.s.sed through her form.

"Please! You don't have to do this!" she cried. "I'll do whatever you want. He's just a child. Please don't do this to my baby."

"Your baby? He's an irritating piece of c.r.a.p. He's ruined our lives. Look at you. You're pathetic. You're just a crack wh.o.r.e. Why would I want you? Go find your stash, and leave me alone. I'll send the little mistake to cry on your shoulder when I'm done with him. Now get out of my face before I decide to kill him."

Brayson moved to stand in front of Burt and looked into his eyes. They were cold, full of hate, and his breath reeked of an ale smelling substance on top of his tobacco. Brayson looked at the sprite. "Mogg, I cannot allow this man to do this. How could he do such things?"

The sprite flew over and lowered into a seated position on Brayson's shoulder. "I understand your frustration, Wizard, but as we have already discussed, I cannot allow you to alter George's when. Again, we can only watch."

Brayson took a deep breath as Burt lowered back into his chair. "George, get your a.s.s in here and bring a towel! I want to get this over with! My favorite show is on in 10 minutes!"

Brayson watched as the frail woman lifted off the floor and then left the room. He could see the pain in her walk, and after some moments pa.s.sed, a young George entered.

"Oh, no, no, no, Mogg, he's just a child!"

"Yes, he is, Wizard. You said to bring you to the most significant event in George's when. I did as you requested."

George spoke. "What do you want, a.s.shole?"

Burt's back was to the boy. He did not bother to turn his head away from the box filled with beings, and he held up the container that he had referred to as lotion. "Watch your tongue! Get in here, and put some of this on me. I ain't got all day."

Brayson was surprised at the strength of George's response.

"I don't want to. I hate doing that. It hurts. It makes me bleed ... and you stink. You disgust me!"

Burt kept his eyes focused on the box. "Look, you little b.a.s.t.a.r.d ... get in here, or I'll kill you!"

Brayson could see the fight in the child's eyes. "Mogg, are you seeing this?"

The Sprite Queen quickly nodded and turned away.

A moment later, George darted across the room and struck Burt on the temple. It was as if the boy had gone berserk, swinging wildly without hesitation or regard for his own safety. The man cried out and shouted for help as George's punches connected again and again.

George screamed. "You're a piece of garbage! You're a loser! I hate you! You'll never touch me again! I'm not your toy! I hate you!"

The boy grabbed an odd shaped object that was sitting next to Burt's recliner after it started ringing and then struck Burt over the head with it. "You're a loser! I hate you! I'll make sure you never touch me or anybody else again! I'm not your toy! Who do you think you are? I hate you!"

The fight continued for a long while. Many of the items scattered throughout the home had been thrown and windows were broken. George lifted a metal object that had a hooded light at its end and hit Burt across the face. The man fell to the floor and balled up.

Eventually, the door burst open and four men in blue clothing, with shiny metal objects pinned to their chests, rushed in and restrained George. They pulled him off Burt who was still lying in a fetal position with his arms covering his face. The whole way out the door, George screamed, "Let me kill him! That sc.u.m deserves it! Let me put him six feet under! Let me kill him! Let me kill him!"

Brayson stood in silence and scratched the sides of his head just above his pointed ears. He pa.s.sed through the door that led outside and watched as the men put George into a metal beast with wheels. Lights illuminated from the beast's back, and it cried a horrific noise as it rolled away through a wall of people who had gathered to see what the disturbance was about.

Mogg flew to the far side of the weed infested yard as the Head Master followed. "Do you wish to know anything else, wizard?"

"I do. What is the name of this place where we stand?"

"It is called Orlando, Florida. This is a world not like ours. We have traveled more than 14,900 seasons to see this when that was known to George."

Brayson was speechless as Mogg continued. "Your Mystic Learner is very, very old ... much older than you, Wizard."

A while pa.s.sed before Brayson spoke again. "I wish to visit another part of George's past. I want to see the when of George's arrival on Grayham. I want to know when George came to our now."

Mogg's wings fluttered. The sky darkened, and the normal shower of colors that fell from them increased. The scenery began to change, and after a considerable amount of moments pa.s.sed, their journey stopped at a place Brayson knew all too well. "Mogg, I asked to see George's arrival on Grayham. I didn't want to come to the temple."

"Yes, Wizard, I know. You're standing inside the Temple of the G.o.ds on Southern Grayham. I have brought you to the when which happened just over a season ago."

"What? What about the last 14,900 seasons? Are you telling me George only recently came to our worlds?"

"I'm telling you nothing other than this is the when you requested to see," the sprite stated.

Brayson began to look around. Not far away, standing just behind a large pillar, three people were moving around the statue of Ba.s.sorine and Mosley. After observing a while longer, Brayson moved closer. "Mogg, this is the King of Brandor and his queen. Why are they dressed in such ridiculous attire, and why is George with them?"

The sprite closed her eyes and began to concentrate. As she did, Brayson listened to every word Sam was saying and learned of the prophecy that had been written on the base of Ba.s.sorine's statue. When the sprite opened her eyes, George was standing on top of it. Brayson watched as George leaned over and took a piece of the Crystal Moon. The rest of the pieces vanished.

George reacted. "Holy c.r.a.p, man! Did you see that? The d.a.m.n thing just disappeared. Now what?"

The statue began to shake. Brayson watched Sam move his queen to a safer position. The floor beneath the statue opened and George fell through a large hole with the base of the statue. He listened to the king shout George's name, but nothing could be done to save him.

All of a sudden, the temple went dark. All Brayson could see was the shower of color that was falling from Mogg's wings to the polished floor. The darkness intensified its brilliance, and rather than dissipate, the colors burst into quiet, miniature explosions of intense light as the sparkles. .h.i.t the floor.

Brayson could hear the fear in Mogg's voice. "It is not wise to meddle in the affairs of G.o.ds, Wizard. We must return to our now. We must leave before we perish in this when."

"What do you mean? How are we meddling with the G.o.ds?"

The sprite did not offer an answer. Instead, she insisted, "You must follow me, Wizard."

Brayson wanted to argue, but he knew it would be pointless. "Lead the way," was all he said.

The scenery changed until they returned to the now they had departed. Mogg stopped and hovered in front of the entrance to her tree. Her anxiety was clear as the sparkle from her wings showered the forest floor.

"Mogg, you said something about the G.o.ds."

"I will not converse with you further, Wizard. I fear for my kind's safety. George's when is the reason that our now will end if we continue to investigate your curiosities. I can do no more."

"But why?"

"You're not smart for an elf of your seasons. If you wish to tempt fate by challenging the G.o.ds, then you must do it without my help. I will not utter another word about this Peak. I suggest you leave."

"But-"

"No! I said leave, or I shall be forced to trap you within another when from which you cannot escape."

Brayson took a long look at the sprite's tiny face. He could see that she was serious. "Goodbye, Mogg." Brayson vanished.

The City of Marcus The Temple of the Dark Order Boyafed looked down at his best friend's body. Dayden had been found mutilated on the outskirts of the city. The Argont Commander's head had been severed, along with his arms and legs, and his privates had been shoved inside his mouth, and his lips were sewn shut. It was all the leader of the Order could do to control himself and keep from killing the messenger who had delivered Dayden's body to Hosseff's Hall of Sacrifice.

Boyafed had been best friends with Dayden since childhood. As he laid Dayden's body on Hosseff's altar, he could not fathom a reason for the killing. After clearing everyone out of the hall, Boyafed lowered to his knees and dropped his head into his palms.

Now, fellow soul ... as Boyafed knelt next to the altar, memories of his childhood flooded his mind. He recalled many fond moments he and Dayden had shared. He thought of the homes where they grew up. They were located on the southern sh.o.r.e of Lake Teza. The homes were modest, provided by the Order for families who had sons who were able to command magic and had the potential to join the ranks of the Order. But fellow soul ... Boyafed's memories were not about the army. They were about friendship and bonding.

"You two boys best dress to charm!" Dayden's mother shouted from the kitchen of their home as she opened the food closet to put away the corgan milk. "You cannot expect a young lady to attend a ball with the likes of you if you cannot dress appropriately!"

"Yes, Mother!" Dayden responded after cracking the door to his room and poking out his head. "We'll be sure to make you proud!"

"You better! No proper young lady wishes to be escorted by a pair of mongrels!"

"Yes, Mama!" Dayden pulled his head back into the room, looked at Boyafed, grinned and then poked his head back out the door. "We even managed to bathe! I bet you're proud!"

As Dayden's mother cracked open a vestle chick egg, she smiled. "You jest, Dayden, but the dirt on your hands speaks the truth! You best wash them before you go! A lady does not wish to hold a filthy hand!"

"Yes, Mama!" Dayden shut the door. At only 18 seasons, he turned to face Boyafed. "Did you find it? I swear it's there. I put it under there last night. My father has been searching for it all Peak."

Boyafed, also the same age, pushed himself out from under the bed. "I got it! I got it!"

"Shhhh! Be quiet, or she'll hear you. We need to get it out of here. How are we going to do it without her knowing? She has extra eyes, you know."

Boyafed tossed the bottle on the bed. "Just get dressed. I'll put it under my pant leg, and we'll walk out of here as if all is normal. She'll never suspect a thing."

After being inspected by the pretty, pet.i.te, elven woman, the boys hugged Dayden's mother before they walked out the door. They hurried down the long pathway that led away from the estate and then cut through the woods.

Boyafed leapt over a fallen tree. As he landed, the bottle fell out from under his pant leg and onto the ground. The boys stopped as they heard the bottle tumble through the twigs.

Dayden s.n.a.t.c.hed up the container. Winded, he wiped its label off as if it was some sort of treasure. "You've got to be careful! We can't replace it."

Boyafed frowned and then ripped the bottle out of Dayden's hand. "Shut up! I'm not thick. It was not my intent to drop it. Let's hurry. I'll hold it the rest of the way."

After running the remaining distance, the boys stopped at the edge of the tree line and looked across a field. Twilight was approaching, and the ball was being held in a barn on farmer Bedgess' estate. Boyafed punched Dayden on the shoulder. "Race ya!" He began to run.

The result of the race was fairly even with Boyafed beating Dayden by the narrowest of margins. The boys adjusted their clothes and looked through the cracks on the south side of the barn. Glow spirits, bugs found only in Wraithwood Hollow, had been captured, transported and then released to fly around the ceiling amongst the decorations. Individually, the bugs released soft bursts of blue light that lasted only a short series of moments, but when they were placed into a large group, the frequency in which the bursts appeared increased, creating a romantic mood.

Boyafed nudged Dayden. "This is perfect. The girls will love this. Come on."

Boyafed peeked his head around the corner of the barn and whispered from the shadows. "Pssst! Jennikas ... come here, and bring Corissa. She's in the barn."

Jennikas' keen, elven eyes looked into the shadows and responded. "Where's Dayden?"

Dayden peeked his head around the corner above Boyafed's. "Shhhh, don't tell her I'm here. Just get Corissa, and meet us by farmer Bedgess' stump."

Jennikas shifted her weight, put her hands on her hips, rolled her eyes and then sighed. "I don't know why Corissa likes the games you play." Without saying another word, she walked into the barn with att.i.tude. She was dressed in a pretty, red gown. Her elf ears were exposed, and her hair had been pulled back and pinned to the top of her head.

When the girls arrived at the farmer's stump, Jennikas and Boyafed embraced. Corissa and Dayden kissed, and then Dayden lifted Corissa onto the top of the stump. Corissa loved green, and her eyes, also green, complemented the color of her gown. She pushed back her blonde hair and then adjusted the straps that crossed her shoulders.

Farmer Bedgess' stump was the remains of a ma.s.sive Jedsolip tree, the G.o.dfather of all trees on Luvelles. It rested on the banks of the ca.n.a.l that fed his lands. Twelve men could easily sit on top of the stump and still have plenty of room.

Boyafed removed the bottle of Mesolliff wine from the inside of his shirt and placed the sweet-tasting, silky-smooth vintage, made from the vineyards of Nept, in the palm of his hand.

"Ahhh, you got it!" Jennikas said, her voice filled with excitement.

Boyafed winked. "We did. And you lovely ladies are going to share it with us. Are you ready for what will happen?"

The girls huddled. After a moment of whispering, they turned to face the boys. "We're ready."

Dayden clapped his hands. "Tonight, we drink to the sweetness of love. Tomorrow, we shall be men, and you will be women."

Corissa giggled. "Don't be silly. We will still be girls, and you will still be boys ... but we won't be virgins."

Now, fellow soul ... I'm sure you would like to know more about Boyafed and Dayden's night with the ladies, but we cannot spend all of our moments reliving their past. Allow me to take you back to Boyafed's current situation.

The Order leader lifted from his knees and stood at the side of the altar. He looked down at Dayden's body. "Goodbye, my friend. I'll miss you." He took a step back and lifted his hands toward the statue of his G.o.d. "Lord Hosseff, please accept your servant's empty vessel. His soul no longer fills it. Dayden has served you well, and I ask that you honor him. Take his body from this world. Give him a place of honor amongst the loyal who have pa.s.sed before him. Let him witness the Heaven you have prepared for the faithful of the Order."

Boyafed took another step back from the altar and watched as the demons that hung from Hosseff's fingers animated. Their clawed feet released their grip, and they fell with wings spread. Their sharp toenails scratched against the floor as they circled and pa.s.sed their dark-red hands over the top of Dayden's body.

Boyafed cringed as his friend's corpse erupted in flames. He clenched his teeth and stood in silence while Dayden's body reduced to ash.

The demons lowered their mouths near the altar and ingested Dayden's remains. After they licked the stone clean, they lifted from the altar and returned to the ends of Hosseff's fingers. Once their clawed feet reclaimed their grip, they resumed their original position and solidified.

Boyafed lifted his hands toward Hosseff. "Thank you, My Lord. I will serve forever."

A moment later, a high ranking officer rushed into the hall. This man was next in line to replace the fallen Argont Commander. "My Liege, I have news of the Dayden's murder."